For her touch was something that she had mainly only in kombat or the rare praise from her master. She had thought to take lovers between the periods when Erron would return but the idea soured for her quickly. Why set herself up for disappointment?

So she reveled in it when he was with her, as now. She turned in his hold to face him, her arms wrapping around him and her lips seeking his out to speak more eloquently of her pleasure at having him in her boudoir than her words could accomplish. Her kiss was needy, hungry, the flavor of spiced wine still clung to them.

The feel of him, taut muscle and strength had always stirred her, dressed in leathers or sand wraps he was an imposing figure of a man. And he was here with her. If it was possible she would feel giddy over it, but she would consider it an effect of the wine and the nearness of his blood.